


Sparkle, Baby, Shine

by pitypartyof1



Series: Superpower AU [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, Minor Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin, superpower au, universitySOS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitypartyof1/pseuds/pitypartyof1
Summary: Michael is curious about the cute boy in his Psych class. For some reason, he's covered in glitter.





	Sparkle, Baby, Shine

**Author's Note:**

> This mildly alludes to Undressing You With My Mind, but it's not necessary to read that first.  
> Enjoy!!

It’s the glitter that makes him do it. On a Thursday, Michael real, honest to god, wait for a reply and everything, talks to the cute blonde boy in his 8 AM Psychology lecture. He’s been inching closer and closer to him each class until he’s sitting in the chair directly behind the one Blondie normally stumbles into. Hissing at a freshman to get the seat has maybe been a low point for him over the course of the semester. Even he knows how desperate that is.

But… The thing is the glitter. It’s fucking _everywhere_ , and not just the normal few sprinkles that seem to constantly grace the boy. It’s as if he was doused in it on the way to class today or something. If it weren’t for his high degree of innate curiosity, Michael would ignore it, but he physically can’t. He needs to know where all the fucking glitter is from.

He finds himself poking the cap end of his pen into Blondie’s shoulder and biting the corner of his lip as he waits for the boy to half turn as their professor drones on in the background. “What’s with all the fucking sparkles?” he whispers in his typical blunt manner, arching a brow.

Blondie blushes a charming pink and the amount of glitter clinging to his cheeks seems to intensify as he swivels back, shoulders hunched, and resolutely ignores Michael’s question.

Well now that’s just interesting, isn’t it? (Also of note: Blondie’s blush is _adorable_ ).

Perhaps he would have been able to let it go then – or, a normal person would have. Michael just wishes vainly that he could read minds, too.

Every time the boy so much as moves the tiniest of increments, glitter shivers down onto Michael’s desk and glints at him mockingly. It’s infuriating. All he wants to do is poke Blondie in the back of the head and watch the glitter fall.

_Come on, why the glitter?_

Scribbling hastily on a corner of notebook paper, he detaches the message, folding it and dropping it over the boy’s shoulder. Blondie’s shoulders tense as he unfolds and scans the note. It crumples easily in his fist and he drops it to the ground without replying. Michael frowns because that’s just rude.

 _Not some weird Twilight freak, are you?_ he tries next, tossing the paper over the boy’s shoulder without folding it. Anyone who says Michael is subtle is lying.

This time, a waterfall of glitter shakes off the boy as he spins in his seat to glare at Michael.

“Stop it,” he hisses.

It reminds Michael of a mildly angry goose. The boy doesn’t seem dangerous at all but Michael has no doubts that he’d probably bite, metaphorically, if Michael gets too close. He maybe also spends a minute imagining a more pleasurable situation where he would not at all mind if Blondie bites him just a little instead of replying.

Blondie’s expression shifts from grumpy to confused as he waits for a response that doesn’t come. “Whatever,” he whispers, moving as if to turn forward again.

“Wait,” Michael motions to him, “sorry, got blinded. The lights caught your – ” he gestures, “ – everything, I guess.”

The blonde flushes again and Michael cocks his head as the glitter intensifies around his cheeks and on his forehead. It’s weird how the sparkles seem to be multiplying. Michael supposes maybe he just underestimated how much glitter there actually _is_ , not to mention how much more intense it is when it’s catching the light like it is now.

“Just… Leave it alone, would you? It’s none of your business,” Blondie responds tiredly.

When they’re finally dismissed by the decrepit old fart at the front of the room a total of fifteen minutes late (Michael counted), he packs up quickly and darts a hand out to stop Blondie taking off on him.

“Um,” he hesitates, slightly nervous. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I swear. Just… I was curious, I wasn’t going to make fun of you or anything.”

The boy mumbles something that sounds like ‘you say that,’ but Michael ignores it, plowing on.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” he suggests, hoping he hasn’t ruined any chances he had with Blondie forever.

Eyes flitting over Michael’s face, searching, he seems to find what he’s looking for. “I’m Luke,” he smiles shyly.

Michael’s own return quirk of lips is equally shy. “Michael.”

 

*

 

The coffee is subpar at best, battery fluid at worst. Both cups have flecks of glitter floating amongst the brown, courtesy of Luke shedding it like a second skin. They sit in almost silence until Michael, desperate to save them, squints at Luke’s bag and spots the green case inside.

“Sweet,” he starts excitedly, “I _love_ FIFA!”

Luke stares at him in abject disbelief that morphs to confused glances between Michael’s face and his very much closed bag. “How did you...,” he begins, trailing off awkwardly.

Michael’s shoulders hunch, self-conscious. “Uh. S-sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking. I-it’s my power. X-ray vision, I guess you’d call it. I can see through anything I need to.”

Luke nods absently. “It’s Calum’s disk, ‘m s’posed to give it back to him, but,” he shrugs. “Wanna come back to mine and play for a bit? If you don’t have classes, I mean.” A sudden grin lights up his face. “Hey! Maybe when he comes home later, he and Ashton won’t fuck really loudly while I’m around if I have a stranger with me.”

Michael snorts harshly, spluttering coffee over their table. “They fuck loudly with you in the house? That’s terrible.”

Luke groans loudly, elbows thunking onto the table as his head falls into his hands. “All the time, I swear. And it’s the worst ‘cause like, Calum can make stuff disappear? He accidentally disappears Ash’s clothes sometimes and it’s just gross. Ash is my best mate, ya know? I really don’t wanna see his junk any more than I have to.”

A laugh rings out in the quiet space and Michael belatedly realizes it’s coming from him. “Are you fucking serious? That’s priceless. Wait, so catch me up, here, which one is your roommate?”

Gesturing wildly, Luke launches into an explanation. “Ash. We’ve known each other since we were in secondary. He stopped some assholes being awful to me once. Best friends ever since. He’s kinda great to live with, too, he’s like the dad friend. He even cooks pretty well.”

“Sounds like a cool guy. I can’t say I’ve ever had a friend I’ve known that long.” Michael stands, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “If you were serious about FIFA, I’m in. This coffee’s shit, let’s get out of here so I can kick your ass.”

Luke’s quick to follow. “There’s no fucking way. I’m going to win.”

Michael grins, shark-like. “You have no idea what you’re in for, Blondie.”

“Blondie?”

“Yeah.”

 

*

 

FIFA goes better than expected.

Much better.

And by that, Michael means that they’re currently in Luke’s room, on the bed. Michael’s hovered over him with the head of Luke’s cock in his mouth, sucking greedily.

He’s not quite sure how it happened, but he’s not going to complain. Luke tastes like absolute heaven. The soft skin is almost sugary sweet as it slips between Michael’s lips, his precum like the sweetest syrup as it slides on his tongue.

Above him, Luke moans in ecstasy, and Michael can’t keep himself from rocking his hips heavily into the sheets beneath him. The jeans he’s wearing are on the tighter side and right now, there just isn’t enough room for the erection straining inside them. He pops off with a noise of regret and spends a moment struggling with the button of his jeans before long, thin fingers gently brush his urgent efforts aside, popping the button with ease.

Luke shimmy’s the material until it’s resting around the middle of Michael’s thighs. “Better?” he rasps, eyes glazed over as he eyes the spot where Michael’s tip pokes over the edge of his boxers.

“ _Yes_ ,” Michael whines eagerly. “God, you taste so good.”

“Just ‘Luke’ will do,” the younger boy huffs.

Michael buries his face in Luke’s soft tummy, groaning. “You did not, oh my god. You’re literally the worst. You owe me an excellent orgasm for saying that in the middle of doin’ the nasty.”

“You just said ‘doin’ the nasty,’ you honestly have no room to judge,” Luke pouts. “Can we just go back to you sucking my dick now?” Pushing his hips up into Michael’s face helpfully, he mumbles sweetly, “please?”

Michael rolls his eyes for show and dives back in with gusto. It’s not like he means to go on about it, but he just can’t get enough of Luke’s taste. It isn’t long before Luke is squirming under him, half formed oaths and wails slipping from his lips.

“Please, Mikey, _please_!”

His efforts to please Luke double, as does the pace of his hips rolling and thrusting into Luke’s mattress. Saliva drips, pooling at the base of Luke’s dick and Michael swipes a finger through it. Rubbing teasingly against Luke’s entrance, he presses in.

Luke comes almost immediately as the tip of Michael’s finger edges over his prostate, almost the ghost of a touch. Warmth floods Michael’s mouth and his eyes blow wide.

This, _this_! If he’d thought Luke tasted good before, it’s nothing to what he’s tasting now. It’s as if he’s tasting the smoothest, velvet-like cream ever made. Before he can stop himself, he’s rutting heatedly against the blankets, coming in his underwear to the taste of Luke’s come.

Only once he recovers enough to open his eyes does he realize that he, Luke, and everything around them is _covered_ in glitter. He blinks.

It’s still there. “What the fuck?” is his intelligent response to the situation.

Luke’s eyes slit open, blush firing up at once when he takes in Michael’s glittery appearance.

The rush of blood is so sudden that, this time, there’s no mistaking it. Michael watches as twin puffs of glitter explode from the skin of Luke’s face. “Are you – ” he swallows tightly, “ – this all came from _you_?!”

Hands sliding up to cover his face, Luke whines. Michael tugs them down, forcing him to make eye contact.

“Luke?”

Luke sighs in a resigned sort of manner. “It’s my _power_.”

He puts a mocking sort of emphasis over the word and Michael frowns.

“I produce glitter and sugar. That’s why I taste so good, as you said. It’s fucking useless.”

Michael kisses the pout pulling his lips down. “I like it,” he whispers, nudging their noses together. “I think it’s supposed to say something about you.”

Luke snorts disdainfully. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Well,” Michael starts, knowing Luke probably doesn’t really want to hear it, “think about it. Glitter is resilient, it sticks around through the toughest things, ya know? And it never fails to sparkle. It’s bright and fun. It makes people happy. And sugar… Sugar is sweet. You are all of those things too, if I had to bet.”

By the end of it, Luke’s baby blues are locked on Michael, wide and a little watery, even though he tries to hide it. “I…” he stumbles. “Thank you.”

Michael kisses him softly. It doesn’t stay that way for long.

They’re engaged in a heated makeout, sweaty bodies moving in tandem on the glitter-soaked bed, when there’s a knock on the door.

“Luke,” a giddy voice calls, “you saucy little minx! Get out here and bring your boy. We wanna meet him!”

“Shut up, Ashton!” The blonde buries his face in Michael’s chest, smacking him lightly as he shakes with laughter. “It’s not funny!”

“’Saucy little minx’,” Michael parrots, laughing louder.

 

*

 

It’s not until the next morning, (he’s not on a walk of shame, shut up), that Michael notices the photo of Ashton. Unfortunately, he laughs so hysterically that he ends up waking the other three occupants of the house.

Calum grumbles heatedly about how it’s Luke’s fault for taking the damn picture and putting it up in the first place until Luke agrees to skip classes and get breakfast instead.

“How did you end up getting a ticket naked anyway,” Michael questions as Luke locks the door behind them.

In lieu of a response, Ashton reaches forward and slaps the back of Calum’s head, muttering rude names at him as Calum rubs the sore spot, looking apologetic.

Michael smirks in sudden understanding.

As he and Luke slide into the backseat of Ashton’s shitty Honda, Michael leans close. “Wanna go on a date?”

He absolutely does _not_ coo at the glitter that heralds Luke’s surprised blush.

“Yeah,” the blonde whispers breathily.

Michael can’t stop smiling the whole way through breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please comment. I am a legitimate comment whore, honestly.


End file.
